


Together (We'll Be Okay)

by GoldenDaydreams



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Derek Hale & Lydia Martin Friendship, Gen, Hurt Stiles, Hurt/Comfort, Mentions of canon character death, Pack Feels, Panic Attacks, Platonic Relationships, Post-Nogitsune Stiles Stilinski, Protective Derek Hale, Scenting, Up to S3 Compliant, Warning: Kate Argent
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-03
Updated: 2017-09-03
Packaged: 2018-12-23 13:14:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,025
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11990550
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GoldenDaydreams/pseuds/GoldenDaydreams
Summary: When the door of the loft starts to slide open, the werewolves within can smell her. Kate Argent. Only, that isn't who appears- it's Stiles, but her blood is all over him.[Kind of hints toward pre-relationship Derek/Stiles, but can be read as platonic Derek & Stiles, whatever floats your boat.]





	Together (We'll Be Okay)

**Author's Note:**

> Warning: Mention of non-consensual touching. 
> 
> First fic in this fandom (#nervousaf) I hope I've kept everyone in character. Any pointers/criticism is welcome. 
> 
> PLEASE- I have only just finished watching season 3. Don't spoil anything for me! (I started watching this show like two weeks ago, give me a few more weeks and I'll be all caught up :P)

The loft had a warmth to it. Derek chalked it up to the candles Lydia had lit around the room. She had said something about the place being too gloomy, and for the past few weeks been bringing in various ‘homey touches.’ He now had electric blue throw pillows (which he low-key hated), a low glass vase with a singular succulent inside (which he suspected she’d been watering, because he had no inclination on keeping the strange pointy plant alive), a metal and wood shelving unit from Ikea which she’d convinced Stiles to build (which he actually liked), and various picture frames with photographs of beautiful scenery, some family photos that had survived the fire (he was actually really touched she thought of framing them), and a few pack photos (including a group shot; one of Scott and Stiles mid-laugh; Isaac and Allison standing close together, her with a little smile, and him staring down at her like she held all the stars in her hands; a photo strip of Allison and Lydia making funny faces; Derek, Scott, and Isaac all looking right at the camera causing the flash to react to their eyes, Kira in the background with strange colouring all around her; Scott and Kira smiling while Stiles and Isaac mocked them in the background.)

Despite his eye-rolls, and snide comments about Lydia decorating the place, he secretly had to admit he liked it.  Her smug smile told him that she knew, even if he would never say it.

“Do you like the scent?” Lydia asked pointing to the candles.

He inhaled deeply, taking in the scent of amber, leaves, and moss. The earthy notes reminded him of home, and comfort. It was actually oddly soothing. He made a dismissive gesture with his hand, and went back to studying the tome he had on the large table by the window. “It’s alright.”

He could smell the pride that rolled off of her as she came closer. “Just alright? Come on, those candles are amazing, and you know it.”

“Don’t push your luck,” he muttered back, flipping the page.

Lydia sat on the table, her legs swinging a little. When her phone went off, she checked the message. “It’s Kira, she and Scott are here.”

The large metal door unlatched, and she jumped at the sound. Derek touched her inner elbow. “Relax, it’s Isaac,” his hand slipped away as her heart rate evened out, the door screeching as it rolled open. “Leave it open,” he said. “Scott and Kira are coming up.”

Isaac’s footsteps were uneven, a few, then a pause, a few more, then stopped. Derek could smell anything off about him, and his heartrate was even, so he glanced over his shoulder to see the young beta sniffing. “Nice candles.”

Lydia preened, and shot Derek a smug grin.

“Great,” Derek forced a frown. “Now she’ll be insufferable.”

“Who’s going to be insufferable?” Scott asked coming inside, hand-in-hand with Kira. “Woah, since when do you have stuff?”

“Take it up with Lydia,” Derek said, leaning his back against the table. “She’s apparently made this place her pet project.”

“You won’t be complaining tomorrow when the television I ordered is delivered. You’ll be home between twelve and three right?”

“Televisi- Lydia! You can’t just drop that kind of money, I don’t even watch television.”

“I can, and I did, and you will,” Lydia said. “How else are we to have pack movie nights if you don’t have a television?”

His teeth clenched, and looked skyward praying for strength. Taking a deep breath, he looked around the room. Lydia’s touches weren’t the only ones there; Scott’s biology textbook was on the coffee table; Isaac’s claws had shredded the arm of the couch when Stiles (the little shit) had snuck up on the half-asleep werewolf and scared him; Stiles had forgotten a hoodie there, and Derek had left it folded up on the couch; and all their scents were left upon the place like echoes.

Scott stood in front of the shelving unit, his eyes glued onto one of the photographs, Kira’s hand between his shoulder blades, thumb rubbing back and forth. _Allison_. The pack had taken her death hard. Scott and Isaac both a little lost afterwards, they still were, it had only been a few short months. Lucky for Scott, he had Kira, who was understanding, and his mother who gave him strength, understanding, and someone to lean on. It was Isaac who Derek worried about. Isaac who had the pack, and nothing else.

“Is Peter coming?” Lydia asked, returning them all to focus. “After all, you saw Kate Argent- who should be dead- alive, and she hurt you. I feel like this should be all hands on deck.”

Derek frowned. Kate had come into his loft, attacked him, taunted him, and left him unconscious and bleeding on the floor. She didn’t want to kill him- yet- she wanted him to suffer. When he woke up, the blood stains and bullet shells were the only evidence it had even happened. “He’s out in the woods with Malia,” Derek said, not bothering to mention that he hadn’t even bothered to call his uncle.

“What about Stiles?” Scott asked.

“He said he’d be here, but that’s when I called around six.” It was closer to ten now. They always had to meet a little later at night so they would have time for their after school activities, dinner, and homework. “Maybe he fell asleep.” The concerned notes in her voice put them all on edge. They were all worried about Stiles. Even after the Nogitsune, he retained the dark circles under his eyes, and drank Red Bull like it was going out of business and he was single-handily trying to save it.  They all knew he was sleep deprived, but he deflected every time anyone tried to bring it up with him.

“I hope so,” Scott said softly. “I bumped into his dad earlier today, he mentioned Stiles being up at three am watching cat videos on Youtube, while writing an essay for Economics- but actually it was mostly about reindeer.”

Isaac snorted when he tried to keep from laughing, the smile remained. “If you said that sentence about anyone else, it wouldn’t make sense, but since it’s Stiles…”

“No one is surprised,” Lydia finished with a grin of her own.

Derek kept his amusement to himself, but the little tug at his lips soon faded as he heard something in the stairwell. Feet clanging against the metal stairs, quick, uneven, clumsy. He stepped away from the table, and all eyes were on him. He brought his finger to his lips, motioning for silence.

The other werewolves turned toward the door. The footsteps were hurried, and getting closer. The moment the door started to slowly slide, Derek caught the scent. _Kate._ His inner wolf snarled, and his claws broke free, he shifted slightly to his left to put himself between the door and Lydia.

The figure at the door wasn’t Kate.

Instead, in the doorway stood Stiles, covered in blood, shaking and panting. “Derek?”

Derek’s claws retracted, and the steady rumbling growl in his chest abated. “Stiles, what the hell happened to you?”

Stiles moved, unsteady, steps clumsy with how fast he tried to go. Derek met him halfway and the rest of the pack converged around them. “You’re okay,” Stiles said, as if shocked to find him in one piece.

“Yeah, of cour-“

“You’re okay.” Stiles’s hands were on his neck, then his shoulders, down his arms, up his chest. Those whiskey eyes were flicking all over the place, searching, searching, searching. “You’re okay, you’re okay.”

“I’m fine, Stiles, you’re… this isn’t your blood.” Derek realized a little belatedly that it’s Kate Argent’s blood, that’s why the little human smells so strongly of her. “How… what happened?”

“She- she said…” Stiles took a step back, like he couldn’t breathe being so close, he took a deep breath, but it stuttered, and soon Lydia smoothed a hand over his dishevelled hair.

“Stiles,” Lydia kept her voice steady. “It’s okay, you’re safe. Can you take a deep breath for me?” Bless the boy, he tried. The breath in stuttered and he wheezed as the breath escaped his lungs. “Nice and easy,” Lydia said. “Do you smell the candle?” Stiles nodded. “Derek likes it,” Lydia said, like it was a conversation, like Stiles wasn’t on the edge of a panic attack. But Stiles took a deep breath in, and held it there. “I think it’s a nice fall scent, don’t you?” Stiles let out the breath, and nodded. “So does Derek, even if he won’t say so.”

Stiles took another breath, his eyes shifting from Lydia, to Derek. His Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed. “She said she’d hurt you.”

“Kate?” Derek asked, assuming from the blood.

“Yeah.” Stiles leaned a little, clearly enjoying Lydia’s hand in his hair. He hissed and she pulled her hand back. Blood coated her fingertips.

The scent of his blood had gone unnoticed until now, buried under the scent of Kate, but now that it was in his lungs, he had to focus on keeping his anger in check. “Tell us everything.”

“I was walking here because the Jeep wouldn’t start.” Stiles said. That didn’t surprise anyone, the Jeep had been giving Stiles trouble for the better part of two weeks, but with the medical bills from all the tests he’d been put through while under the influence of the Nogitsune, he didn’t want to burden his father with auto-repairs. “I-I heard this scream, a woman screaming down an alley, and I just reacted. But it was just her, and she… she slammed me against the wall-“ his hand came up to touch the back of his head, that explained the injury. “She said she’d hurt you, Der, she said she’d spend tonight causing you pain, and she laughed.”

Stiles’s hands were shaking at his sides, and Derek stepped into his space, gently touching the smaller man’s shoulder, then pulling him into his chest. “I’m okay,” he said, trying to reassure Stiles after Kate’s malicious mind game.  

“She could be coming,” Isaac said, glaring at the door.

“Isn’t it dumb giving that kind of warning?” Kira asked.

Scott turned to Lydia. “What do you think?”

Lydia raised a perfectly sculpted eyebrow. “If you’re asking if I feel like there is any impending death, doom, or dismemberment, I don’t.”

“You hurt anywhere else, Stiles?” Derek asked, pulling away, keeping his hands on Stiles’s shoulders, looking him over.

“I’m alright,” Stiles muttered.

Looking over the full picture for the first time, Derek frowned. Kate’s blood was all over his neck, bits of it on his jaw. It was like she’d staked her claim on him, marking his neck with her scent. “I can’t believe she wiped her blood on you.”

“She cut open her stomach and used the blood like a first-graders finger-paint,” Stiles shuddered. “I’ve seen some messed up shit, but that’s in the top ten.” He frowned, reconsidering. “Or at least in the top twenty.”

Derek’s eyes trailed over the hand print on the center of Stiles’s chest, probably the hand that had pinned him to the spot. More long drag marks were down his blue t-shirt.

“I’m sorry,” Stiles whispered. “I wasn’t strong enough to fight her.”

“I’m a werewolf, and I wasn’t strong enough to fight her when she broke in a few nights ago,” Derek said. “Besides if you fought her-“ his words trailed off, and he found his teeth elongating, a growl working its way up, and increasing in intensity.

“I’m sorry,” Stiles whispered again.

There was a bloody handprint over Stiles’s groin, and Derek just managed to let go of Stiles’s shoulder before his claws came out. “She isn’t coming,” Derek managed to bite out, turning away, trying to get himself back under control.

“What makes you so sure?” Kira asked.

“Because she’s made her point,” Scott said softly. “She did hurt Derek.”

“What?” Stiles’s head shot up. “Again? Where?”

“No, she hurt him through you,” Scott said, staring at his best friend. “She knows she can hurt Derek without actually laying a finger on him. She’ll do it through his pack.”

“I’ll kill her,” Derek snarled. “I’ll kill her, I swear it.” The scent of her clouded his mind, and infuriated him. He needed to focus, and he tried to ground himself with the scents past it. Isaac was closest, smelling oddly of something sweet, like cotton candy, it always clung to him, and the childish scent just brought out the urge to protect. Lydia smelled of designer perfume, old books, and cinnamon. _Kate_. The scent still drowned things out. He shut his eyes. Metallic blood. He shook his head, focussing past it. Kira smelled of water, flowers, earth and ashes. Scott was identified by axe body spray barely covering up wood, leaves, and faintly of Kira. Finally, he caught it, Stiles; ink, and paper, fresh cut grass, and rain- _pain, fear, shame-_ the scent markers made him finally regain control. Stiles needed the human side of Derek, not the werewolf.

When he turned back around, his features had smoothed back out, his eyes no longer glowed, and his claws had retracted.

“Let’s get you in the shower,” Derek said, beckoning him with one hand. “You need to get that blood off you. Then we can treat your head wound.”

Stiles took one step, then another, slowly closing the space between them. “I want her off me.”

“Okay, okay, come on,” Derek said, trying to keep himself from wolfing out again. He led him from the pack, and upstairs to the bathroom. “I’ll grab some clothes for you.”

Stiles grabbed his forearm before he could take a step away. He looked at the hand, then up to Stiles’s face, arching an eyebrow in silent question. Fingers released one by one as if it physically hurt to let go. “Sorry.”

“Stop apologising,” Derek said, not unkindly. “Tell me what you need.”

Stiles looked down at the floor, then up to a dent in the wall (caused by roughhousing between Scott and Isaac), then to the doorframe. “The way she spoke, I thought she’d left you seriously injured. I thought that when I got here, I would find you in a pool of blood.” He choked a little on his breath. “I watched her cut herself open, she wiped her blood all over me. She… I…” he took a deep breath. “The most fear I felt was the moment she said she’d hurt you, that she’d spend tonight causing you pain, and that laughter…” He swallowed hard. “This isn’t over. She wants you to suffer.”

Derek couldn’t help but look at the young man’s neck, the blood circling it. Then down his chest. His groin, and the bloody handprint that stood out on his grey sweatpants. “Did she…” he looked back up, questioning.

Stiles blushed, his eyes incapable of meeting Derek’s. “Grope me? Yeah. Now, usually I wouldn’t have a wouldn’t have a problem with a beautiful woman-“ his brave face fell, and he sucked in a breath, incapable of finishing off his sentence with his usual sarcastic bravado. “She said she’d been watching our pack for a while. She said you were watching me.” Derek felt his jaw tighten, his teeth grinding together. “She said something about marking her territory. For later.” He took a deep breath. “I feel filthy. I need to shower.”

“I’ll bring you some clothes,” he said again, but Stiles’s grabbed him again, and fingers gripped harder.

“I know it’s probably uncomfortable, but could you just stay with me, like… in the bathroom while I shower? And talk to me, or something. I just… I need to know you’re here, and okay. I just need some time, I’m still all panicky, and I lost count of how many Red Bull I’ve drank today, and I couldn’t find my Adderall so I’m kind of all over the place already, and she really freaked me the fuck o-“ he fell into silence when Derek wrapped his arms around him, holding him tightly to his chest.

“I’ve got you,” Derek promised, sniffing the top of his head where there wasn’t any of Kate’s blood and it was just Stiles; ink, paper, fresh cut grass, rain, coconut shampoo, and anxiety. “I’ll stay.”

“Thanks,” Stiles said, pulling back.

::

They came back downstairs a half-hour later. Stiles wore Derek’s clothes, causing a strange warmth in Derek’s chest that he couldn’t quite identify. Being a bit taller, the band of the sweatpants were rolled down a little, but were still a little long at the feet. He’d also chosen a sweater that was clearly a few sizes too large, and covered most of his hands, just fingertips pointing out. Stiles now smelled of both himself, and Derek from the body-wash and clothes.

“Have you guys come up with anything on Kate?” Derek asked, returning to business.

“She’s a zombie,” Isaac said.

“There are no such things as zombies,” Lydia said with a sigh. “She’s clearly a werewolf.”

“I’m telling you, when she attacked,” Derek paused, trying to figure out how to explain it. “There was something different about her. Besides, we killed her years ago.”

“See, zombie,” Isaac said.

“Zombies are brainless creatures,” Stiles said, leaning his hands on the table, adorable sweater paws. “She has a plan, so not a zombie.”

“Then what is she?” Scott asked.

And so they went on, through the night, trying to figure out their current enemy. Derek kept his eyes on Stiles, who looked steadier now that he’d showered. The rest of the pack showed their concern in other ways, Lydia with a pot of hot tea, Scott brushing against his brother, Isaac kept checking the bandage at the back of his head for blood spots, Kira offered him his favourite cookies.

They’d work together, they’d protect each other, their pack was strong, and would not be defeated by Kate or her mind games. He caught Stiles’s eyes, and gave him a little smile. Stiles beamed back.

_Yeah,_ he thought, _we’ll be fine._

 


End file.
